My shits f'ed up, yo.
Working on correcting it.
The weekend started well- the Friday night Ingress get-together was good right until the end when I tried to do an equipment drop with Steve from Houston...
I couldn't get my Samsung S2 to synch up and behave enough to do the swap.
This should have been a harbinger of Things To Come.
(I hear you saying: What?! An S2? No one uses the S2 anymore. This is 2014, Dumbass. 2010 called, they want their phone back.)
Saturday started a bit late, but good- I met up with the crew for breakfast and we got to work. Good times, good times.
Checking messages during the day, my phone was still acting up- never a good sign..
Worse- it felt like it was running hot... Well- hotter than usual.
Well- screw it. No time to worry now-the project waits for no man. I'll have to do with what I have.
As we were knocking off for the day, my smartphone dies.
Completely dead - screen black.
And hot? Holy crap it's burning hot.
Like can't-hold-it-without a 2d6 damage roll.
No- it's on the external battery. 4 blue lights.
It is vibrating now and then, just slightly. Like a mackerel laying on the dock- twitching occasionally as it slowly expires.
Great. What the hell else can go wrong?
Everyone has taken off- so I head back beach-bound...
I missed my turn off one street heading for the bridge out of downtown (not paying attention, wound up in wrong lane, dumbass move 1) and just figured I'd circle back by going around the block. (Typical 'downtown' layout, lots of one way streets.
This is when it really got fun. And expensive.
Coming up to a stop, Soccer Mom was in front of me in her MiniVan- taking the right on red...
I'm looking left after seeing her pull into intersection- all still clear so I start to roll on the throttle and look back right....
Soccer Mom was only halfway into the intersection and I was .000002 inches from her bumper.
She pulls up into the parking lot...
I push my FUBARed bike up to the curb.
Bike's not rolling anywhere anytime soon. Left fork is mangled, front fender is in 4 pieces, cracks in faring. Front left brake is toast.
Personal physical harm... Yeah- there's damage.
Deceleration trauma where my cojones hit the gas tank as the bike impacted the back of Soccer Mom's car.
There is going to be some swelling... And not the good kind.
Damage to Minivan- a bare scratch in the vinyl of her back pseudo-bumper.
Me- I'm screwed...
And it hits me... I am in Dark Territory. No cell phone. No camera to document damage.
Shit... no contact list (it's on my phone) of people to call.
Soccer Mom lets me use her phone-
"But only for a minute- I have to go pick up the kids!"
I find an old receipt with the number to the bike repair place in my case on the back of the bike...
I call them, explain the situation and ask them if they can send their truck and bike trailer to pick up my heap of twisted metal...
No- truck is out on another pickup. They'll send a wrecker.
I got Soccer Mom's info and she took off.
I'm on the curb, pissed.
It was especially frustrating as I have no way to alert anyone as to my predicament...
Have you noticed a dearth of payphones now days?
Used to be one on every corner.
Now you can't find them for love nor money.
Besides- even if there was a phone, I didn't have any numbers memorized, they're all on my contact list on my phone... (Or my iPad back home.)
90 minutes (or thereabout- I was about to pass out from the heat)
the tow truck showed up.
We wrestled my FJR up on to the flatbed and strapped it down, then headed off to the cycle repair shop in Atlantic Beach.
On arrival I realized Dumbass Mistake #2 - I hadn't latched my "trunk" on the bike. it had blown open and all my shit was strewn along I-95 & Atlantic boulevard...
Things like my riding glasses, gloves, some of my tools, and my bike manual.
Just #$%@*&^!ing lovely.
At the shop, The Mechanic looked at the remains of my bike as one would a bad cheese.
"Yeah, well- the one fork we can fix with new seals.
That other fork and brakes- pretty sure I can get those used locally.
Prolly gonna be 500 in labor and parts. Git it back to ya on Wednesday.
The fender and the other plastic- yeah- that's really gonna cost ya.
Gonna be around 1500 for the new fender & farings.
Lucky the headlights and lenses are ok- that's grand right there."
That's my middle fucking name today.
I left the bike at the shop (duh) and got a ride home from The Mechanic. It was almost 5:30.
Had a looooong chat with Captain Morgan, with an icepack on my crotch the rest of the day and most of the next.
I didn't leave the house again until Monday morning.
Wednesday AM. I am mostly phoneless...
The S2 screen is FUBAR as are some of the comms features- I can plug into it into my laptop and see the device - so it looks like the data is intact.
It can't make or recieve calls.
I've moved my SIM into an old Samsung phone our Phone Maven had on hand for emergencies.
I'm eligible for a new phone (according to our corporate package) in July...
I've already been assigned a new Galaxy S5.
(Phone Maven: No choice- you'll get that one and you'll like it. Or you can go buy your own.)
Picked up my bike Wednesday AM-
Cosmetically, it's bad - duct taped fairings, missing fender, etc.
But I'm back on two wheels, and the swelling has subsided enough that riding is not uncomfortable.
The new farings are ordered and will be here in 3 weeks.
Between parts, labor, taxes, towing, etc...
About a $2500 weekend for me...
The Moral of the story:
PAY FUCKING ATTENTION WHEN YOU ARE ON THE ROAD.
TBG- ΜΟΛΩΝ ΛΑΒE